Full Circle
by Dojikko Duo
Summary: Harry Potter's career as an Auror is over. He doesn't know what he wants to do; he wants so many different things in life. Ultimately, though, he just wants to be happy. Now that his life has come full circle, where can he go? Hogwarts. It's where Harry's life started; his home. Now that his life is what's falling apart, he's back again hoping that Hogwarts will fix him instead.


Harry walked slowly down the beaten path towards Hagrid's house, cane in hand. London's fog made his injured knee ache but the thick fog surrounding the castle did the opposite. Maybe it was because the fog was imbued with magic or because he had returned to his first home but he felt like a kid again. He felt invigorated. He also felt like he needed three more cups of coffee.

Even as an Auror, he wasn't the type to wake up at such an ungodly hour but Hermione had insisted they leave at dawn to catch the train. The train itself had been decorated for the reunion. Although, it was also for the students because school would be starting soon. Not that the trio minded. They were happy to see that Hogwarts was back in its feet after the war.

Good ol' Hermione. Always keeping Harry and Ron, along with everyone else, in line. If it hadn't been for her, Harry would've never been able to sneak out of the party. What a nightmare.

He continued down the path, smiling in spite of the circumstances. Harry remembered trying to keep his footing on the grassy slope during one particularly wet spring. The path was now muddied soil, having been so heavily trodden over the years. Harry was glad to know that Hagrid had finally achieved his dream of becoming a beloved teacher. One question was nagging at him though. Why hadn't Hagrid shown up at the reunion? He hadn't seen Hagrid's large footprints anywhere. Strange, since it was hard for the half-giant not to leave his mark on something.

The half-giant stayed on campus year-round unless called away for business, which was rare, and Harry had been looking forward to seeing him. Hagrid was much better company than what had greeted Harry when he first walked through the doors of the Great Hall. He hadn't expected to be swamped by fans: former classmates, their spouses, relatives, coworkers, acquaintances, the list went on. Harry sighed. He'd expected more from some of his classmates.

He couldn't really blame them. Everyone always wanted to meet The-Boy-Who-Lived, especially now that he was known as such a successful Auror as well. Everyone wasn't happy about that though which was how he had taken a bullet to the knee.

Harry heard the hippogriffs before he saw them and grinned, easing down the slope to visit the majestic beasts. The pen had somehow tripled in size since the last time he had seen it, stretching across what looked like the entire clearing. Several hippogriffs playfully sparred together while a few paraded around the enclosure. Others grazed here and there and searched for worms. So many multi-colored figures were overwhelming.

It was then that Harry noticed another figure. Well, sort of. Among the various shades of feathered feet was a pair of weathered work boots. Maybe their owner could tell him where Hagrid was?

There didn't appear to be another way around so Harry threw a leg over the fence and nearly fell into the pen. His physical therapist would be disappointed to know how far Harry had let himself go since his last appointment.

Harry kept his head down while attempting to count the many pairs of feathered legs and clawed feet. He kept losing count. There was just too many of them. His heart sank into his shoes. Hopefully the owner of the boots would stick around because this would take awhile.

He slowly shuffled farther in with his eyes cast downward, bowing when he thought it was necessary. Occasionally, he bowed so low he nearly fell in order to pass a particularly pompous hippogriff. His back was already beginning to ache. Finally, he reached the far end of the enclosure where the younger hippogriffs played. Harry risked a glance upward, noting how the sun had gotten lower in the sky. _How long had he been out here?_ A young hippogriff barreled past him with a tawny feather in its beak and Harry dove to the ground in his haste to get out of its way. The owner of the feather, a furious adult hippogriff, barreled after it. It looked like Harry had a new problem.

Almost all the younglings dwarfed Harry and had yet to learn manners like their older counterparts, making them even more dangerous. The younglings raced about and chased each other, biting and nipping their playmate's tails and rearing up to challenge their friends, kicking up dust as they wrestled to the ground. They had no sense of personal space either, jostling each other and tripping over their themselves to be the first to play with their newest toy, Harry. He scrambled to his feet but it was too late. A youngling had already seized his shirt in its beak and the others were already upon him as well.

Harry tried to squeeze his way out of the mass of feathers but it was no use. Beaks pulled at his hair and sharp claws raked across his chest, ripping his shirt, as he was jostled around the tight circle of younglings. They nipped at his body and their beaks dug into places they shouldn't have. Harry couldn't swing out at them with his cane from the close proximity either. One youngling bit his hand and Harry dropped his cane, gulping as he heard the strong oak snap like a twig under their feet. Any progress he made pushing through the ever-growing mass was futile. The younglings only shifted and circled around him once more.

Suddenly, some of the creatures peeled away, leaving Harry dazed and covered in some strange gritty substance. Harry shook the substance from his hair and looked around as the other younglings left as well. _What was going on?_ He brushed off his shoulder and readjusted his glasses to take a closer look. _Bird seed?_

"Hey! Watch out!" A familiar voice yelled.

Harry looked up only to be knocked off-balance by something foul. He fell to the ground somewhat dazed and threw his hands up as younglings came charging at him once again. Dust clouded his vision and all he could hear was their loud squawks and chirps as they squabbled over something near his head. But they didn't attack him, well, not in the way he had expected.

Instead, one stepped over him for traction as they all began to fight over the object that had hit him. Harry cracked open an eye. It was a dead, smelly ferret. He watched as one gulped it down and suddenly their eyes were fixed upon him again, looking at him as though he were their next meal. _Crap_. A youngling's breath blew back Harry's hair as it smelled him. He flinched when one licked his face, lapping at the blood left from the ferret carcass. Waving and swatting them away had no effect. It was only after he heard a dull thud a few feet away that they left him alone, racing to a new, smelly prize.

After Harry regained his senses, he was aware of someone laughing at him. Multiple hippogriffs obscured the man from view so Harry rolled onto his side and glared at what he could see, the worn work boots, before slowly climbing to his feet.

As one hippogriff leaned down to feed, Harry caught a flash of familiar steely gray eyes. _What the hell?_ He tried to get a better look without making eye contact with the creatures.

"If you spend any longer standing there, Magnus is going to peck your ass because you're in his way."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Turn around."

Harry slowly turned while keeping his eyes trained on the ground. Two enormous legs stood inches in front of his own. He slowly backed away from the adult hippogriff, bowing low to the ground as he went. When he collided with the fence, he scrambled over it and landed in the grass on the other side.

A bloodied hand was suddenly thrust into his face. "Need some help? "

"No, thanks, I'm good." Harry grimaced as he struggled back onto his feet, finally able to look at his assailant. He was shocked at what he discovered.

Everything from the man's mud-caked boots to his broad shoulders was covered in dirt and straw. It had worked its way into his hair, darkening it so that it matched the straw that stuck out of it. The man hastily wiped his hand on his grass-stained jeans and flashed a smile.

Harry couldn't help but continue to stare at him. The sun had tanned his pale skin and reflected off his hair, making it look as if he was glowing. This man couldn't possibly be the same irritating brat he knew from his childhood. The man didn't even sound like Draco. The icy, petulant voice was gone, replaced with a voice full of warmth. Even the man's eyes were different. They still held their calculating sharpness but the familiar predatory gaze had faded away. He looked uncertain. What had his time away from the public done to him?

After a few moments of awkward silence, the man cleared his throat.

"Sorry about that. I didn't know anyone was in the pen until the younglings mobbed you. Never go in during feeding time." He grimaced before lightly tapping his nose.

Harry looked closer and noticed how it crooked ever so slightly to the right. "You broke your nose?"

The man nodded. "I got it from refusing to play with a six month old youngling. What a temper tantrum." He smiled sheepishly. "Ever since I started working here, Hagrid's kept a first aid kit handy. I get hurt on the job a lot."

He held out his hands, both of which were pockmarked with scars and covered in blood, dirt, grass stains and bandages. The man was a mess. Not that Harry was much better since he was covered in blood, dirt and a few feathers, probably bits of dead ferret as well. His clothes were shredded and he leaned heavily against the fence now that his cane was destroyed.

The other wizard's eyes slowly looked over Harry's body and he shook his head, making Harry feel self-conscious. Then, he walked off and slipped into the treeline, motioning for Harry to follow. After a few minutes of weaving through the trees, they stepped into another clearing and Harry's guide charged into a small cabin, leaving him to wander around aimlessly.

To one side of the clearing was a large garden where giant stalks of corn, as well as other vegetables Harry recognized, grew. The rest were foreign to him. A cart sat next to the garden, piled high with firewood, and a few thestrals roamed about the clearing. Others rested under the nearby fruit trees. On the other side of the clearing was a well, a stable and a rusted pickup truck.

Emerging from the cabin, the man triumphantly held a bulky carpet bag in the air. A red cross was painted on it. He waved Harry over to a stump next to the woodpile and wrenched an axe out of it, blowing off wood chips. "Sit." He commanded, balancing the first aid kit on his knee as he rifled through it.

Harry sat down on the stump but _not_ because he was told to. Being ordered around by the blonde brought back memories and Harry tried to tamp down any feelings of ill will from the past. He was starting to believe that this man might actually be the Draco from his childhood. But, just because Malfoy had been used to ordering people around didn't mean he could treat Harry like a house elf now. Although, he _was_ trying to help Harry. It was the blonde's fault he was like this in the first place but still.

The man pulled out a brown bottle and tugged at the cork with his teeth, spitting it out onto the ground and soaking a rag in the pungent liquid.

Harry coughed. "Is that whiskey?"

He nodded and lifted up Harry's shirt.

"Hey!" Harry swatted his hand away. "Why are you using that? Why not Firewhiskey or, y'know, actual medicine _?_ "

"Whiskey has been used for hundreds of years to disinfect wounds. And I'll have you know I could have picked Firewhiskey but it _burns_ and why would I waste it on you?"

Ah, yes. Finally the blonde showed his true colors. That was definitely Draco. Harry watched as he stepped closer, still holding the rag, and leaned away.

"You didn't answer my questions. And, why didn't you open it like a normal person? Have you become rabid from hiding away from humanity for so long or do you still have the strength of a sickly first-year?" He smirked.

Draco gave him a long, withering look. "Madame Pomfrey isn't here and I wouldn't carry your ass all the way back to the castle anyway." The other wizard suddenly clamped a hand onto Harry's arm and pressed the rag against it, making Harry hiss. He wouldn't admit it but there was no way he could have freed his arm from Draco's grip after months of taking it easy. He doubted he could have done it before his accident either. Judging from his self-satisfied smirk, Draco knew it too.

He scrubbed Harry's arm before tossing the rag at him, letting Harry clean the other. Harry tried to quickly scrub himself down but changed his mind when he saw the other man raise an eyebrow and lean toward him threateningly. That was all the warning he needed. There was no way he was going to let that maniac near him again.

Draco dragged a log over and sat down on it, taking a swig from the bottle before pouring a generous amount of alcohol onto his hands and scrubbing at them with another rag. He passed the bottle to Harry, who took a large gulp from it at the realization that he would have to scrub his face next. Harry took his time wiping at his neck, hissing softly. Vicious younglings.

After Harry was done, he noticed that Draco was still furiously scrubbing at one of his hands. At least it hadn't taken Harry that long to get rid of a little blood. Harry's smirk fell away as he stole another glance in Draco's direction. Delicate narcissus flowers decorated his left forearm and stood out against his skin. But even the splash of color failed to hide what Draco was so desperate to get rid of, a reminder of their past, his dark mark.

When Draco glanced up Harry immediately looked away. He cleared his throat as he stood up and Harry looked over at him once again, noticing how Draco tugged at his left sleeve nervously. "I have clothes inside that fit you."

Harry nodded and held the rag near his face. His chest could wait until later. He didn't want Draco to make him feel insecure about anything else today. And yet, he couldn't help but hesitate. Scrubbing his face was going to _hurt_.

"So, about the bottle." The blonde piped up, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced in Harry's direction, eyes fixed on Harry's shoes. "Hagrid puts the cork on too tight and I can never open it. I mean, have you _seen_ what he's capable of? I usually smash the top against something but the thestrals like how the glass shines and I've gotten stitches twice because of it." He shrugged and held out a hand as proof. "I know a thing about wounds. Let me help you with yours."

Harry held back a laugh and nodded, drenching the rag and tossing it to Draco before downing the remaining contents of the bottle. He winced when Draco touched the rag to his face. The strong alcohol made his eyes water. The other man slowly wiped at the blood before pausing when Harry winced yet again. Draco sighed and gripped the rag tighter.

"I'm only doing this to get it over with."

An arm wrapped around Harry's neck and Draco quickly scrubbed away as Harry tried to squirm his way out of the headlock. Draco rapidly scrubbed away, making quick work of the mess as Harry continued squirm and splutter.

Draco released Harry and leapt clear in case the man muttered a magical curse amongst the non-magical ones he was currently hurling at him. He jogged towards the cabin and Harry angrily limped behind.

"So, about those clothes?" He called over his shoulder as he went inside.

He picked up the clothes he had left inside earlier and shook them out before handing them to Harry. Harry expressed his gratitude by slugging Draco's shoulder, hard.

"Asshole." Harry said as he shoved past Draco and into the nearby bathroom, still muttering insults.

Harry heard the clatter of dishes and quickly shoved a foot into the washed out jeans Draco had given him. Mm, food. He hadn't realized he was so hungry. Shortly after pulling a white t-shirt over his head, he heard the whistle of a teapot as well. Was Draco humming? More importantly, what was he humming? Harry paused to listen and groaned. The familiar tune was already stuck in his head.

 _..Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts.._

He couldn't stand that infuriating song. But, that wasn't the reason he charged out of the bathroom half-dressed. Harry stood behind Draco and sighed.

" _Really_?"

Draco turned. "What? I like-"

Suddenly his world was obscured by a sea of emerald green.

"I am not wearing that." Harry stated as the flannel shirt dropped to the floor.

Draco grinned and picked it up, holding it out to him. "Are you sure? The green really brings out your eyes."

"The red one you're wearing makes you looks like an albino lab rat."

Harry made a point of walking a wide arc around Draco and sitting down at the table. The washed out pair of jeans and white shirt he was wearing made Harry look like a ghost. The same pair of shredded shoes he had been wearing earlier weren't helping either. Draco frowned.

Harry rolled his eyes when he saw the look on Draco's face. The man knew he was joking, right? Then again, this was Draco he was dealing with. The same Draco who created commemorative Potter Stinks buttons and the infamous Weasley is Our King song. The guy had never been able to handle a joke, the artistic little shit. Harry stole a glance at Draco again. The guy had changed, somewhat. Who was he to get in the way of Draco trying to be a better person? He crossed his arms. "I guess you don't look like one, in certain lighting."

He lightly prodded an off-color, oddly shaped lump sitting on the table. "Did Hagrid make these?"

Draco nodded. "He felt bad about missing the reunion so he made some for you. "

"I thought he left months ago?*

"He did. They keep for a long time."

"Are they supposed to be that color?"

"I think so?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "That's not a question you answer with another question."

Draco shrugged. "Remember Madame Maxime from Beauxbaton's? Hagrid visits her every year in hopes of, 'changin' 'er mind 'bout having lil' beasties' running about on campus. He never succeeds but he always comes back looking rather pleased with himself anyway." He grinned. "He wrote me that the headmistress might be adding a menagerie to the campus this year. He extended his stay to help her."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and bit a biscuit, instantly regretting it. Draco jumped up to grab the tea he had forgotten, talking over his shoulder as he did so.

"Hagrid took some hippogriffs with him. The pen was packed before he left."

Draco set the tea on the table, watching Harry look out the window, scanning the crowd of hippogriffs that were still visible through the trees.

He finally looked away from the window. "Have you seen Witherwings?"

"You mean Buckbeak? Yeah, he's here. "

Harry glanced over at him, startled. "You call him that too? "

"That's his name. Well, before I kinda, y'know…" He trailed off. "C'mon. I'll take you to him."

Draco piled their lunch onto a platter and kicked open the backdoor, turning the corner with Harry limping close behind. They plopped into the soft grass next to the shed.

And curled up in the corner preening himself, was Buckbeak. Well, Witherwings, but he would always be Buckbeak to the trio. Harry noticed how the hippogriff's gray wings had dulled.

Thanks to Hagrid's class, Harry knew that hippogriffs lived a long time. However, the stress of being on the run had clearly aged the creature. Harry knew the feeling. Even now, the Auror was already sporting a few gray hairs. He wondered how much he had aged in the last few years. Both his career and his time at Hogwarts had that effect on people but Harry wouldn't have traded it for the world. He wouldn't be himself without both parts of his life shaping him into the man he was today.

Harry sighed. Who was he now though? He was no longer a boy, obviously, and his days as an Auror seemed numbered. He looked down at his bum leg and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his mouth full.

Harry gave him an odd look. _What the hell had happened to this guy?_

"These clothes are itchy and I smell like a drunk."

Draco gave him a hard look.

Harry heard the faint whistle of the Hogwarts train and noticed how the sun was beginning to set. "I hate to eat and run but I've gotta go. The train is going to leave soon." He said as he slowly stood.

" _If_ you can run." Draco scoffed. "Wait here, I'll go get my broom."

Draco disappeared around the shed before gliding back to Harry on the broom, a few inches above the ground.

He landed a few feet from Harry. "Hurry up or you'll miss the train."

"Both of us?"

"Yeah, you look lightheaded and I don't want you to fall off. Hermione would kill me." Draco grimaced.

Harry had been feeling light-headed. Maybe it was best if Draco did go with him after all. He slowly swung a leg over the broomstick and say down uneasily. He tensed as Draco reached around him and gripped the broom handle, locking Harry into the ride. Both he and Draco had been known for their aerial stunts when they were seekers. Hopefully Draco wouldn't take advantage of the situation and throw Harry for a loop, literally.

They slowly rose into the air and flew over the hippogriff pen. Harry laughed as he watched how the younglings chased their shadow below. Draco pointed the the broomstick skyward and the ride higher before leveling out again. The view was incredible. The castle looked better than ever now that it had been restored to its former glory. As they flew closer, Harry could see people walking about and the staircases change. He waved to a few of the paintings.

Harry noticed one room looked barren and dark. That was weird. He pointed it out to Draco.

"What's that?" He yelled over the wind.

Draco circled the school for a better look.

"That's the Defense Against the Dark Arts room! A teacher was lined up but dropped out, the coward! The curse strikes again!" He yelled back.

All too quickly, the two landed in Hogsmeade a few buildings away from the train's platform. Draco and Harry dismounted the broom and crept closer to the train from the safety of the shadows. Harry didn't feel like getting mobbed yet again.

Harry breathed in the smell freshly baked goods and took in all the smiling faces milling about.

"I didn't realize I'd miss this place so much. I don't want to leave." Harry sighed as they continued to walk closer to the train.

"You've managed to kill off the Dark Lord so why don't you use your skills to kill off the Defense Against the Dark Arts curse? Then Headmistress McGonagall and I can bet how long you last." He grinned.

He looked at Draco incredulously. "Me, a teacher?"

Draco shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

Smoke from the train quickly swallowed up the delicious smell of baked goods. Harry looked around them. The farther they walked from Hogsmeade, the more it seemed to be hidden by the fog rolling in. Instead of making him feel rejuvenated like earlier, the fog made his body ache. His heart ached too.

He was nearly onto the platform now and Harry looked behind for the last time. Hogsmeade was nearly completely swallowed by the mist and Draco had already slipped back into the shadows, leaving Harry to limp to the train by himself. The smoke was much stronger as well making his eyes sting and stomach churn. He hadn't expected leaving Hogwarts for the second time would hurt so much.

Harry climbed aboard and slumped into his seat.

"There you are, Harry. What happened to you?" Hermione asked as she sat down, already leaning forward to investigate.

Ron followed her in and gasped. "Bloody hell, Harry! What'd you do, lose a fight with the Whomping Willow?"

Harry waved them both away. "It's a long story."

"Well, let's hear it then. I've run out of books to read anyway." Hermione folded her arms and waited expectantly.

Ron peeked down the aisle for the candy cart. "What about story snacks?"

"Ron, no. The candy cart won't come until later."

The two men groaned. Harry hadn't realized how hungry he was. He sighed and began to tell them what happened.

They were well on their way home by the time Harry had finished explaining. Ron was well on his way to the bottom of the candy cart Harry had bought for all three of them, to _share_.

"And that's that. Now hand me a cauldron cake before you eat them all, Ron." Harry sighed, pointing at the bottom of the candy cart.

"No wonder you look so awful. Hippogriffs are extremely dangerous, Harry."

Hermione scrunched up her nose and tossed her half-empty box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans onto the trash pile rapidly accumulating next to Ron. Then, she grabbed a handful of chocolate frogs.

"Luckily, Hagrid had those clothes to give you." Hermione added.

Ron nodded and hid a smile behind his pumpkin pasty. "They did a number on you. Why'd Hagrid have human clothes though? He can't wear 'em."

Harry shrugged and bit into his cauldron cake. He hadn't wanted to lie to his friends but what other choice did he have? They disliked Draco more than he did, for obvious reasons. Maybe it was best to keep the secret to himself, at least until he could decide what kind of man Draco had become.

In the meantime, Harry would let the two distract themselves. He looked out the window and tried to ignore the fact that Hogwarts was getting farther and farther away. Yawning, he closed his eyes. It was going to be a long train ride.

"No, Ron! We can't scourgify Harry!" Hermione hissed.

"It might make him feel better. It'd make _me_ feel better." Ron grumbled.

Harry cracked open an eye and looked around, wondering what was going on and noticing how dark it was outside.

"Are we there yet?" He yawned.

Hermione nodded. "We're pulling into the station now."

She glared at Ron and stood up to grab their things from the luggage compartment. Harry stretched and grabbed his bag as well. They stepped off the train and walked through the wall of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters into the cold London rain on the other side.

Ron hailed a taxi and the Weasleys slipped inside. Hermione rolled down the window and waved Harry closer tossing him the last chocolate frog.

"Have some chocolate. Hogwarts needs another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies." She smiled and rolled up the window.

Harry watched the cab drive off and opened the chocolate frog in his hand. He swiped at it as the frog jumped out of the box but it was too late. The frog was gone and the rain wasn't relenting either.

At least he could see what card he gotten. Harry wiped the rain from his glasses and looked closer. Dumbledore smiled back at him and waved.

"Okay, okay. I get it, you git." He mumbled, putting the card in his pocket and hailing a cab for himself.

Harry sighed and looked down at the scars on one of his hands. Even so many years later, the message Umbridge had taught him was still imprinted on his skin. Not the way she had expected though.

He remembered the pain she had caused him and everyone else at Hogwarts as well the pain her allies had caused. The cut of the quill stung more and more as he pressed on, pressing down hardest on the two words that truly meant something, the only ones that managed to remain all these years later.

I must.

 _I must stop Umbridge._

 _I must stop the Death Eaters._

 _I must stop Voldemort._

 _I must stop it all._

 _I must save everyone._

Harry paid the driver and headed to his apartment. Rejuvenated and already thinking of all the things he needed to do.

He ran a hand through his hair. Him, a teacher? Stranger things had happened.


End file.
